


Wisia's Avengers Drabbles

by wisia



Series: Wisia's Avenger Drabbles [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just posting whatever drabbles I may end up writing here for Avengers/Marvel. Updated 7.23.14 with chp 4 (SteveBucky - preslash)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve & Tony, Angst, gen.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something short and just characterization practice in a way because this is Steve and Tony, and yeah. I didn’t think I would be writing Marvel fanfiction but there you go.
> 
> You can make up your own story on what is going on between Steve and what Tony is asking because I didn’t write it and I didn’t get that far. I just wanted to write dialogue and oops, I angst-ed.
> 
> You may think of it as Steve/Tony if you want, or you can read it as a bromance. Not enough to really suggest anything.

               “Please Steve,” and Tony hated it. How it sounded from his lips. He watched as Steve frowned, and those shockingly blue eyes were rounding in on him and taking in his desperation.

               “Why?” Steve asked. Tony looked away and stared at the ground. His hands clenched and unclenched on empty air.

                “I need you to,” Tony answered and even before he finished the sentence Tony registered the annoyance in the silence before speech.

                “Tony,” Steve started because, of course, he would want an explanation. One that Tony couldn’t give him.

                “I need you to because I don’t trust myself,” Tony said quickly before he could shut himself up. He dared a quick peek at Steve’s face. Steve’s mouth was slightly open and there was—

                “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Tony rushed. He didn’t want to know what that look in Steve’s eyes was. “I’ll just, I’ll just go.”

                Tony made for the door, bringing a hand up to press the heel of it against his eye. A headache was mounting, and this was stupid. This was really stupid, and he had done some stupid things in his life.

                “You know,” Steve said before Tony reached the door. “If you actually tell me more than that we could—“

                “What? Be happy and rush off into the sunset? It’s fine. I’ll handle it,” Tony said dismissively.

                “You always do this,” Steve said and, yup, there was frustration in his voice.

                “That’s right,” Tony couldn’t help but jab. “That’s me, fucking Tony Stark. You wanna slap me and get it over with?”


	2. Steve & Sam - Gen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still on writing hiatus. But just some short lines for this. To be fair, I did it over two days — so I’m still yeah…
> 
> Based on these gifs (http://babbleon.tumblr.com/post/81905121270/someone-should-write-a-story-based-on-these) because I couldn’t resist. I will figure out a storyline for this afterward….though I’m sure quite a number of people already wrote fic for this. OTL
> 
> Also, I haven’t watched Cap 2 yet, characterization is probably shit. What do I know about Sam?

Sam was about to eat breakfast when the call came. The vibration of his cell was hard to ignore, especially as the force of the high setting knocked it into his plate. The buzzing sound was also annoying, and it was interrupting his happy eggs and bacon, especially bacon, breakfast. He stared at it and promptly shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Calls be damn, he was going to eat his bacon. The buzzing stopped and resumed again after a pause, almost with renewed intensity. But Sam was going to ignore it. Because bacon, and just as he lifted the bacon to his lips—

"Damnit!"

He shoved half the bacon into his mouth and picked up.

"Wilson here."

"Sam, it’s Steve."

"What’s up?" Sam asked as he wiped his hand on a napkin.

"Could you do me a favor and look out the window."


	3. Hollywood AU - SteveTony, T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this:
> 
> http://wisiaden.tumblr.com/post/92210029824/oh-my-god-i-keep-getting-plot-bunnies-for-stony
> 
> At the end.
> 
> Planning on turning this into a full 10K fic later when I have the time.

"How could you think I didn’t want you?" Steve asks as he pressed dozens of tiny kisses onto Tony’s face. He cradles Tony’s cheek in his hand, so warm and large, "You know, I don’t care. I don’t care if the whole world knows."

"But," Tony starts, trying to pull away. "You don’t want the whole world to know. You don’t want a life filled with cameras. You’re not going to get that with me."

Steve tugs him back, holds him tighter. “I want you more than I hate the paparazzi.”

"Steve," Tony shakes his head. He doesn’t quite believe it.

"I mean it," Steve says and it’s so sincere and does funny things to Tony’s heart. Then, Steve’s eyes goes dim, just a little. "Unless you don’t want me?"

"Hell no!" Tony spits out fast and loud. "I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I just want you—you can do better than me, and I…I really want you, so much that it hurts and it drives me nuts. I can’t think, I can’t sleep. And I—this stupid script we’re filming together right now? That’s all on you. I wrote it for you, and you don’t even know—"

Tony breaks off. He’s panting slightly from the force of his emotions and he can’t believe he just babbled like a dumbass. Real smooth, Tony thinks to himself.

"Good," Steve says and draws Tony into a much needed heated kiss that scorches Tony deep down into his soul. 


	4. Soup - SteveBucky (preslash/hinted?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve does the washing and gets cold. Bucky comes home and lends him some warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh…just trying SteveBucky out. Let’s hope it wasn’t too bad, especially since I’m writing blind about the 1940s.

The cold stung Steve’s knuckles as he plunged his hands into the water. He could feel himself shiver, but the washing had to get done. Steve really hoped that wasn’t a cough tickling the back of his throat as he scrubbed Bucky’s shirt. He hated the washing, but it was one of the few things he could do to earn his keep. Bucky brought in what he could, but Steve was hindered by his constantly getting sick. Steve was stuck doing housework. Some people talk, but he’ll do what he can and if it meant doing the washing then that’s what Steve’ll do.

Still, it was tiring to lift the sopping clothes up and then wring them as dry as he could possibly make them. It didn’t help that it was almost winter which made everything nearly ice. As Steve hung them up to dry, he sneezed. Then twice more. It made him missed the door opening and Bucky’s entrance.

"I’m ba—are you sick?" Bucky frowned as he closed the door. He had a paper bag in one arm.

"N-no," Steve said and sneezed again. "Just doing the wash."

Bucky set the bag down on the small table in their crowded kitchen. Their place was more spacious than their last, and it was cheap too for being moderately decent.

"The wash?" Bucky questioned.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Can’t send you back out without a clean shirt. What would the boys say?"

"That I’m going to get lucky," Bucky quipped. And that much was true. There was no shortage of girls clamoring to hang off Bucky’s arm. They practically shoved whatever they made at him. Steve knows because Bucky always brought them home to share with him.

"Bucky," Steve sighed and finished pinning up the last shirt. He wiped his hands, and he could feel his teeth attempting to clatter against each other. "What did ya bring?"

"Cabbage. Potato. Carrot," Bucky listed. "The usual. I managed to get a little meat though."

"Meat?" Steve asked, moving closer to peek in the bag.

"Yeah. About to go bad, but I figure if we cook it tonight we’ll be fine. You need a little more meat anyway."

Steve flushed. “I do not. I’m just thin.”

"Right," Bucky said and clasped him on the shoulder before pulling back with a jerk. "Goddamn, you’re cold."

"I’ll be fine," Steve insisted. "Soup then? We can stretch it some."

Bucky didn’t answer, only shrugged off his jacket and plopped it right over Steve’s shoulder.

"Um…"

"Just take it. Still warm from me wearing. God knows you need it."

Bucky smiled at him, and Steve didn’t argue against it. Not when he could feel the warmth seeping through to his skin. He could smell the cigarettes that Bucky smoked, and he snuggled deeper into it.

"Soup. Definitely soup," Steve said. 


End file.
